


College Food Is Expensive Let's Just Share

by swiftMartyrdom (gatonip)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: College AU, F/M, which isn't fleshed out at all it's just college au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatonip/pseuds/swiftMartyrdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw a prompt about an AU where your OTP decides to buy a bunch of food from the college cafeteria to clear out their food accounts for the semester and I tweaked it a bit and whoops</p>
            </blockquote>





	College Food Is Expensive Let's Just Share

It’s one in the morning on a Friday, you’re on the girl’s floor with no valid excuse to give if the RA catches you, and you’re starving. You’re surprised that the sound of your stomach growling doesn’t wake up everyone in the building. As quietly as you can, you rap on the door with your knuckles. The door cracks open just enough for the resident to pop her head out, look around the hall quickly (comically, as you both know she can’t see), then grab your arm and pull you in.

“Welcome to Casa De Terezi Y Nepeta, sans Nep who’s out at the moment,” your girlfriend announces, despite this certainly not being the first time you’ve been in their room. She still takes you on a 10 second tour of the room to point out the new drawings she’d done taped up on the wall, Nepeta’s numerous animal posters, and the multicolored lights strung up everywhere.

“This is all well and good, Rezi, but can we do whatever it is you had planned already? I’m fucked if somebody comes to check on you.”

“Alright, alright, don’t have a cow. Have a seat on the floor and close your eyes.” Such a command opens the floodgates for a lot of trouble but you do as you’re told and wait, listening to her pad across the room. When she tells you to open your eyes again, the most beautiful sight in the world fills your vision: food. Bags of chips, crackers, plastic containers of salads, smoothies, candy bars, everything short of a full chicken.

The semester is ending in a few days and, as it does every semester, your cafeteria account has run down to mere pennies. Your family isn’t the wealthiest in the world (you have so many loans to pay off once you graduate it’s unreal) so once your account is empty, it’s empty; no more cash until the next semester starts. Unfortunately, that means you have almost no money the last week of the semester, and therefore almost no food, which is especially terrible as finals approach and your growling stomach keeps you awake when you really need sleep. Your friends are life savers and share whatever they can with you, but you’re stubborn and usually won’t accept until you’re close to fainting (you’ve actually fainted before for this very reason; you’d rather not relive that moment).

You haven’t had a full meal in a few days now, just snacks here and there that you bummed off of Kanaya and Sollux. So all of the food that’s splayed out in front of you has you salivating.

“I know you just hit one buck on your account and the new semester isn’t until Monday,” Terezi is saying, ripping open the plastic around a hoagie, “so I figured a feast was in order.”

“But…Rez, there’s gotta be like…” you do a few quick calculations in your head, “at least twenty dollars’ worth of food here. How could you afford all of this?” You know her family’s better off than yours financially but she’s still a college student, and every dollar she earns through her part-time job at the local A.C. Moore goes towards her tuition.

“Remember that physics final I had yesterday, and how I wasn’t eating much during my cram sessions? Yeah, all that added up quick apparently.” She shoves the sandwich into your hand and grabs a Rice Krispies treat for herself. “Now eat before you waste away.”

You stare at her, then at the sandwich, and then back at her. “You’re…so you’re just gonna give me all of this?”

Through a mouthful of food she replies, “Well I’m gonna eat some of it too, but yeah most of it is yours.”

“Dude, you don’t need to do that,” you protest. “You need to make up for those cram sessions. I do the fasting thing every semester I’m used to it by now.” Your stomach rumbles despite your words.

“Just eat your food Karkat this stuff isn’t getting any fresher.” When you still hesitate she grabs your wrist and smushes the sandwich into your face. “Do I have to feed you or what?”

You sputter and complain about shredded lettuce going up your nose until you finally relent, taking a tentative bite, then two, then three, and you always forget just how hungry you are until you realize how fast you can down a sandwich that you’d normally spend about ten minutes eating.

You hear her faintly giggling through your chewing on the last bite. “What?”

“You smell so much like mustard, it’s probably all over your face!” she explains, trying not to cackle lest she wakes anybody up, but failing.

You flush a bit. “Yeah well whose fault is that, Miss Let Me Smear Food All Over You?”

“I did nothing of the sort! You’re just a messy eater is all.”

You huff, and suddenly an idea comes to mind. Reaching over the pile of food you lean forward and press your lips to hers. She’s briefly surprised (as evidenced by the slight squeak she lets out that makes you smirk) but quickly catches your drift and kisses back, arms wrapping around your neck. You open your mouth a bit and she follows your lead. As your tongues play and Rice Krispies crumbs fall on your neck, you make sure she’s thoroughly distracted before grabbing the sandwich wrapper and rubbing it on her cheek, smearing mustard on her face and pulling back quickly.

“Now who’s the messy eater?”

“No fair!” she exclaims, laughing and wiping off the condiment with the back of her hand. She makes a grab for the wrapper but you hold it out of her reach, and she pounces on you in an attempt to take it from you.

You spend the next few hours nibbling on the feast and exchanging kisses in between bites, making a mess of the floor but not really caring. You thank her maybe fifteen times for doing this for you, and she insists that the two of you make a tradition out of it. Feeling like you’ve just had Thanksgiving dinner, you both fall asleep cuddling among wrappers and crumbs.


End file.
